


Out On The Lake, They Sat.

by somewhat_lost_anna



Category: Good Omens
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 07:29:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19459279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somewhat_lost_anna/pseuds/somewhat_lost_anna
Summary: As the moonlight doth shine upone thyne floating abode, truth aboute hidden emotiones must be showne.- Agnes NutterThis prophecy was read off repeatedly until the demon had finally understood what he had to do. With the puff of a pidgeons chest and the shake of a lamb’s tail, Crowley’s moment had arrived.





	Out On The Lake, They Sat.

The water shimmered as if it were a diamond placed ever so intricately upon a band of silver. With the flow of the comfortably warm wind and the lulling slosh of the lake, they sat.

Face to face, seemingly lost in each other. The boat creaked, whispering to the angel and the demon as the water rocked them soothingly, swiftly speaking words of wisdom from those who have ridden it before.

“ _My_ , _what_ _a_ _lovely_ _night_.”

The angel spoke.

Such a comfortable voice. A sound you could melt into as if you were a marshmallow in a cup of hot cocoa. Something to soak into and enjoy.

“ _Quite_.”

The demon replied.

He sounded much rougher, far more relaxed and laid back. He sounded as if he were always stretched upon a remarkably comfortable sofa, as if he had just awoken from a lengthy nap.

And yet, the angel slipped right into the demon’s tone with such ease and comfort, such familiarity and passion.

And with that, we recognize that the angel is in love. Pining, almost, for someone who is seemingly unreachable. A foreign, yet spiced taste upon the angel’s tongue.

He had fallen quite some time ago, not how angels usually fall, he had fallen in love.

It was so strange, yet exhilarating. The previous anxiousness that clung to the angel’s lungs like an infant clings to its mother had slid straight off his being when around this demon, around this aura of trouble and danger. The angel liked the feeling of being in danger, as long as it was with his demon. 

The demon, on the other hand, was not exactly paying attention to the ‘lovely night,’ and was more watching as the angel’s eyes danced with exhilaration and desperation.

Oh, those eyes. The very sight that had drawn the demon in since the dawn of times, since the beginning of the world. 

Coiled up, as snakes should be, he slithered into the warmth of the angel’s welcome. He was not aware of how quickly he’d be used to being cradled by the arms of his angel. 

“ _Aziraphale_.”

The demon spoke with a rumble in his throat.

” _Yes_ , _my_ _dear_ _Crowley_?”

Such a refined voice, the angel spoke with. A delicacy to the ears. A desert that can only be eaten on very special occasions.

The demon, Crowley, found himself to be lucky that he got to hear such a stunning and soothing sound so often in his years of living. 

“ _What would you say if I told you that I believe I may be in love with you?_ ”

” _Why, I suppose I’d be quite shocked. Someone like you loving someone like me... Why it’s ridiculous, my Crowley.”_

It is strange how such softness can sting like a needle. How the seemingly soft fur of a dog can pierce through your skin and irritate you for hours on end. How one can get so used to the cushioned sole of a shoe that one tiny pebble can throw them off.

This was what Crowley was feeling. Irritation. Desperate, bloody irritation. 

“ _Ridiculous_? _Angel_ , _I_ _must assume you’re playing a trick. A practical joke, perhaps?”_

The demon’s voice was now sleek. Almost velvety. He was hissing, an old habit that couldn’t simply be broken, although he had not meant to sound intimidating.

_“I, for one, am not joking when I speak that I am sure I am in love with you.”_

The angel let out a gasp. It was easily distinguishable as a joyful gasp. Not concerned or upset, and much to Crowley’s surprise, the angel didn’t sound nervous. Not one bit. 

“ _Quote_ _me_ _and_ _call_ _me ridiculous, my dear, but I do believe the feeling is mutual._ ”


End file.
